


Lace and Courtyards

by Tlern467



Category: Dragon Age Inquisition - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 16:48:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18877213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tlern467/pseuds/Tlern467
Summary: It is quiet in Skyhold, most of the people have left.Lace and Merrill enjoy a quiet dance in the courtyard.





	Lace and Courtyards

Lace and Courtyards 

Skyhold was still, the quiet ruins resonating with hidden power from a time long past.   
There were a few hold overs, those taking a bit longer to gather their belongings or having no real home to return to.   
Lavellan’s clan was gone-only faint whispers of where they had been. She didn’t know where she was headed next, only that it was away from here. 

The courtyard that usually bustled with activity was still, silent. The breeze from the Frostbacks the only source of sound here.   
She traced her steps in an intricate dance, letting the whispers and imagery of her ancestors guide her footwork. Her people had lost so very much, most of it never to be recovered.   
Yet Solas, her Dread Wolf, was going to do that. Part of her exulted in that. But unlike Solas, she understood the Elvhen of now were part of this land. To destroy that in a hope of restoring something that may not be around...  
And what about her gods-the vengeful beings Solas locked away? What of the Forgotten Ones? Would he just let the People of now face their wrath? What of the Blight-the Archdemons? 

No. Merrill couldn’t stand by and let Solas forget the people here. She had to believe he could be saved. I’m her own way she loved him, she supposed. Now that he was gone on this mad quest. 

“I expected to find you here,” Dorian said, stepping down from the main stairwell. She looked up from her dancing, and the whispers silenced.   
There were just the hints of moisture on his eyes. Her best friend in all of Thedas had been crying.   
“I’ve been loathing this day,” Dorian said.   
“Me too.”   
“I know,” Dorian said.   
They just stood there in silence, unable to think of the words. 

“Will I-will I ever see you again?” Merrill said.  
Dorian chuckled then, a laugh so infectious she found herself laughing as well. They both laughed until their chests hurt and their faces were red.   
“Oh yes my dear. You are my first and only friend in the South. Besides, I think my countrymen will have something to say about losing ground to the Qun and Solas’ army.”   
“I’m gonna miss you Dorian.”   
“Undoubtedly. I am so charming and handsome.”   
“That too.”   
“Thank you, for everything Inquisitor.”   
“You know you can call me Merrill now?”   
“No, I can’t,” Dorian said. “Because you’re the only one fighting for regular people down here. You’re fighting to give people who did nothing wrong but be born the wrong person. You’re fighting as the Inquisitor.”   
More silence.   
“Come here,” Dorian gestured.   
They embraced. Merrill let herself feel for the first time in days and the tears flowed freely. Dorian cried too.   
The two fast friends held each other and cried, with no one left to witness them but the ancient magic of the keep, the winds of the mountains and the whispers of Lavellan’s ancestors. 

Finally, the two pulled away, smiled and laughed as they wiped the moisture from the others’ cheek.   
“Take care of yourself Dorian.”   
“You too Inquisitor, my friend,” Dorian said.   
Merrill watched him walk to the keep’s entrance until he faded from view entirely. 

She traced her footwork again, trying to memorize in her motions the complexity of her past. The whispers seemed to encourage her and she gave herself to the dance. 

Merrill looked up to see Lace Harding standing where she was the first time she ever really met her. That felt so long ago now.   
“You know, you dance really well,” Lace said.   
“You didn’t have to stay here on my account,” Merrill said. But of course that wasn’t true and they both knew that.   
“How’s the hand?” Lace said. “Does it, does it still hurt?”  
“No,” Merrill said, looking at the partial stump where the Anchor had been. Even with Solas freeing her from the Anchor instead of leaving her to die, she still had to cut it off to prevent the latent magical energy from killing her. In truth, she had lost most feeling in that arm completely.   
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you in the Crossroads,” she said.   
“I’m just glad you’re safe.”   
“Would you-would you like this dance m’lady?” Lace asked. “It’s just the two of us here. As long as you don’t mind someone with two left feet.”   
“Nothing would please me more,” Merrill said. 

They danced in the courtyard, recounting Lace’s adventures with the scouts while she was in the Fade, their thoughts of the future, whatever came to mind. The two of them danced all the moments they could not in Halamshiral, all the times the business of saving the world had taken precious time from them. 

Finally the two of them lay in exhausted, contented loafs as they looked up at the myriad stars piercing the evening sky. Together at least for now, and that was what mattered. 

Tomorrow would come and the two of them would march from Skyhold. Merrill couldn’t let Solas win. She couldn’t.   
Today she was here with the love of her life, safe, watching the stars. 

And the whispers of her ancestors, as if in their own acceptance, fell silent.


End file.
